Anniversaries Abound

As we wind down our dream vacation to celebrate 25 years (wowza, that makes me feel old) of marriage, I can't help but become pensive and reflective. Being away from home draws that out in me. Even more so than usual to my friends who say I'm this way ALL the time!

I left for vacation with school not being over for my students.  I did FaceTime with them their last day. Some were all over it, but most more than likely hid and thought, "Geez, can it be 1 o'clock already?? I've had enough of that lady. Come on summer!" Needless to say, I hurried through deadlines (my least favorite thing...right up there with, "Hey, you want to do something spontaneous?") Insert nausea here. Got in a short trip to "Granny's Hotel" and celebrated the 5th anniversary of our little goober, Micah, being home. Wrote detailed lists of to-do's for every child I have, double checked Micah's child care calendars (yes, plural. Thank you, Kelsay and Sarah, for sharing my obsession) and tried to make sure I'd forgotten nothing. Dropped off my beloved Hannah at the airport to watch her little grown-up self go through security without me and hopped 3 planes and boom, here we are. A different view of God's coolness. But, may I say that He's no cooler here than He is at home? Vacations can recharge you, but you still have to deal with life no matter where you are.

All of that to say this. God is good. Very, very good. I still struggle with my pit-dom and most days have to intentionally concentrate on the fact that my surroundings, my emotions and my issues don't change that. Thank you, Jesus, for that. He's also reminded me of this. Nothing can replace Him. Nothing can replace family and friends. Nothing can replace his mercy. Nothing.

I knew well in advance that I'd be hitting the "six months since my dad passed" mark while I was here. Months ago, I told myself that surely at the six month mark, I would have reached a pinnacle of mourning and would then be well used to breathing in and out each day, without missing him. I don't know if there's some manual somewhere, but I'm not sure I'm following it. So tomorrow, at 10:05 am, dad has been with Jesus for half of a year. I miss him. At the least expected moments, I cry in public at the most bizarre of situations. Sometimes while I make coffee, sometimes when I stare at the ocean and wonder how in heaven's name did he stay for months on a ship to land on Normandy when I can barely get salt water in my eyes without wanting to swear just a little.

But this I do know. Dad's absence here doesn't change who God is. Climbing in and out of bouts of depression does not change who He is. Watching my mom slip away with dementia doesn't change who He is. Worrying about my kids, my job, my value to others simply doesn't replace what matters. These things will never be absent from my life, if I can be so honest. And quite frankly, these issues are inconsequential compared to most.

So as we prepare to leave, packing our souvenirs and memories,  I'm so thankful for a God who doesn't withhold from his kids, even when they are so very undeserving. If nothing else I've learned, if I got what I deserved, life would be bleak and boring, at best. Instead, I have a loud, big family that is irreplaceable and quite hysterical, at times. We often speak in "The Office" language and break out in song. I have friends I'd literally die for and a husband that tends to keep staying around, despite the nutcase I am. Despite it all, I shall keep moving. One foot in front of the other. I pray that you can, too.

A New Year, A New Slate

  Am I the only woman on the planet that refuses to make resolutions? Mostly, because I forget. And I honestly can't keep them. Seriously, if I want to change something so badly, why wait till January 1st? Thus, my "New Slate" title isn't eluding to a resolution, but my transparent attempt to be a better me. Pretty much in every facet of my crazy life, if I'm being truthful. 

  I'm not kidding myself that I may have two people read this blog, one being an obligatory "mothers-in-law are too kind not to read it" reader. And being as honest as I can be, I'm so okay with that. This is more for me than anyone else. But hey, if someone else out there relates to my chaos, is inspired by something I may actually write with Jesus' help, or is pretty much over the stress and drama of everyday life, well so be it. I pray that may be the case for the two, still mysterious, readers who take time to read my ramblings.   

This past year has been a whirlwind with a nursing school graduation, a high school graduation and a wedding within three weeks of each other. Throw in a little jaunt to Africa and POOF!  This last month has been, by far, one of the most difficult journeys I've walked. I use the word "journey" because it implies that I'm still on it, haven't gotten to the end and usually there's contentment and peace when you cross the finish line. I lost my dad, my hero and cheerleader on December 12th at 10:05 am. I know that's specific. But there was something comforting about holding his hand the very second he stepped into heaven. I looked at the clock and thought, "Wow, he's really gone home." Grief ebbs and flows. There's really no predicting when it hits. No warning. No waving flag that it's about to start. My grief is selfish in many ways, but real nonetheless. Dad is dancing a jig, hanging out with old friends and sitting at Jesus' feet. I'd hate to admit that I want to deny him of something so cool. But I miss him. I cling to the promise that Jesus knows our suffering, is our rock and prince of peace. May I be transparent now? If I had it MY way, I'd still be chatting with dad. I'd be listening to his corny jokes and his WW2 stories. I'd pick up pizza and eat with my parents around a tiny table and tell them for the hundredth time that, "No, I don't want money for the pizza, dad." But MY way is not reality and certainly not best. I'll miss him, grieve over his passing and sometimes cry at very inappropriate times. But I'm human, that's  okay, right? I leave my "two" readers with this..."I (we) can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (us)."